LXI: An Owl from St. Mungo’s

Part Ten

LXI: An Owl from St. Mungo's

Minerva kissed her mother and father good-bye the next morning and, for the sake of the novelty of it, Flooed to the Three Broomsticks, and then Apparated from Hogsmeade to the school gates. She walked briskly up to the castle and hurried inside and up the stairs to her rooms. Minerva dropped her carpet bag on the floor just inside the door, then set off for the second-floor entrance of the Headmaster's office. The first few weeks that Minerva taught, she had difficulty remembering that the entrance was on the second floor, since when she was a student, it had been on the ground floor near the staff room. Minerva wondered why Albus had moved the entrance to the second floor when his classroom was on the first, but then after realising that Professor Gamp's office, classroom, and living quarters were on the second floor, it occurred to her he may have done it in order to make it easier for his Deputy to access his office. Minerva then deliberately avoided thinking about the fact that the reverse was true, as well.

This morning, however, she simply skipped down the stairs, gave the password to the gargoyle, and rode the stairs up to the Headmaster's office.

Albus, his eyes smiling, rose from behind his desk when Minerva came into the room. "Good morning, Minerva! You are an early bird!"

"Oh! Am I too early? I can leave and come back –"

"No, no, not at all, my dear! If you did that, I would simply have to sit here and await your return. I assume you've had breakfast, but would you like a cup of tea? I have a nice, bracing Assam I enjoy in the morning," he offered as he came around the desk.

"That would be very nice, indeed. I couldn't eat anything more, though. Mother stuffed me with a good Scottish breakfast before I left." She sat in the armchair Albus indicated – thankfully, no longer clad in tartan velvet – and smiled up at him. "Mother and Dad insisted I use the Floo this morning, too. You'd think they believe that it'll stop working if it isn't used regularly!"

Albus chuckled. "Yes, I didn't mind Flooing to the Broomsticks last night, but I was rather taken aback by Egeria's suggestion that in her medical opinion, I wasn't fit for Apparition after the whisky I'd drunk – hours before." He smiled, not genuinely offended.

"Yes, well, how else was she going to convince the greatest Apparater in Britain to use the Floo-Network instead of Apparating? From the Pyrenees to the Pennines, after all," Minerva said teasingly.

Albus opened his mouth. "It wasn't –"

"I know, I know, it wasn't literally from the Pyrenees to the Pennines, but that does have rather nice alliteration, don't you think? So, are these the applications?" Minerva asked, picking up the slim folder.

While Albus called Wilspy and requested a small pot of tea for the two of them, Minerva picked up the file and began scanning the applications. Albus sat down in the chair next to hers and watched her expression with growing amusement.

"Are these people serious?" Minerva finally asked. "This one, I don't think he can write in complete sentences, so I wonder how he would set any written work for the students – or even read the textbooks, himself. I thought that perhaps he was not a native English-speaker, but that doesn't appear to be the problem. Did he actually go through seven years at Hogwarts, Albus?" she said as she handed him the wizard's semi-literate letter. "And these others, they're hardly any better – as applicants, anyway, even if they are able to compose a coherent application."

"Ah, David Fairchild. Nice child, but slid through school. Took only three NEWTs, I believe. Two 'Acceptables' and one 'Outstanding' – in Care of Magical Creatures, obviously. He was an unusual boy. Quite good with beasts of all sorts, but not particularly talented, otherwise."

"Hmmpf. Well, I suppose we won't reject him out-of-hand, then. But this one, Clarissa Quaffenbush. I can't imagine why she thinks that degnoming her gardens for fifty years qualifies her for a position at Hogwarts!"

Albus laughed. "May I see that one? I didn't read them, just put them aside for you." He chuckled as he read it. "I imagine it's yet another attempt to escape Wilberforce, her husband. Every few years, she takes off on some mad scheme and returns to him a few months later."

"Poor woman!" Minerva exclaimed.

"If you knew her, you would be saying, 'Poor Wilberforce!'" Albus said with a smile.

"Well, that's one that's a clear 'no, thank you,'" Minerva said, setting it aside. "Even if she had any other qualifications, we can't simply be another of her mad schemes!"

The two of them were perusing the fourth application when an imposing Eagle Owl flew into the window and banged against it urgently. Albus rose to let it in, frowning when he saw the green and blue band on its leg.

"From St. Mungo's," he said. "Minerva, would you mind taking care of the owl – there are some phoenix treats in my middle drawer."

Minerva rose to give the owl some treats as Albus opened the parchment sealed with bright blue wax. She was just holding the clustered seeds out to the large bird when Albus sat down heavily.

"Oh, dear God."

Minerva froze, seeing Albus's face, entirely drained of colour, and his eyes glazed.

"Albus? What is it?"

Albus swallowed hard and looked up at her. "I will need your help today, Minerva. Robert. It's Robert Pretnick, Minerva. He was attacked by a werewolf last night. Bitten. I must get to St. Mungo's immediately."

"Of course, Albus. What can I do?" Minerva had gone over goose-bumps – a werewolf. She shuddered at the thought.

"First, please notify Gertrude – can you Apparate there, my dear? Good. Then please notify all of the staff – including Poppy, Hagrid, Ogg, and Madam Perlecta – that there will be an emergency staff meeting tomorrow morning at eight-thirty. Be sure to contact both Professor Dustern and Filius Flitwick. Filius is in Provence – use an Eagle Owl and send his letter first. But ask Horace to return to the school as quick as he can – I want to see him this evening, at the latest. Ask Gertrude to meet me at St. Mungo's right away. You may inform Gertie of the contents of the letter, but do not tell the others. Simply inform them that there is an emergency and that the Headmaster requires their attendance at the meeting."

"I will take care of it all, Albus. Don't worry. But how will they believe the letter is from you, and that it isn't some hoax or that I'm exaggerating?"

"Use the Headmaster's seal." Albus waved his wand. "There – you have access to it now; it's in the bottom drawer of the desk. And, if you like, sign it with your name and then write mine beneath yours."

"Very well, Albus. You get going now. Don't worry about a thing here," Minerva said, taking the letter he held out to her.

Albus tapped the fireplace with his wand, then tossed in some Floo-Powder, stepped in, and called out, "St. Mungo's Hospital!"

Minerva read the letter that had so shocked Albus.

"Healer Crispin Fastnott

"Creature-Induced Injuries and Ailments"

Minerva blinked away tears. She had scarcely known the quiet Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, but he had seemed like a good man, and this letter bore that out, if he had sacrificed himself for the sake of others. No time to think about that now, however. Wishing she could activate the Headmaster's Floo and Floo into Hogsmeade, she rode the stairs down to the second floor, then transformed into her tabby form and ran down to the front doors, only returning to her ordinary form to open the doors before racing as a tabby down to the front gates, jumping through the bars. With barely a pop, she transformed to her ordinary form, caught her breath, and Apparated.

Minerva arrived at the edge of the Gamp gardens and walked as quickly as she could up to the front doors of the great house. Krantzy opened the door to her hard rapping.

Without allowing Krantzy to waste time with elaborate greetings, Minerva said, "I must see Gertrude Gamp. It is very urgent that I see her immediately."

Krantzy bowed deeply and popped away. Minerva stepped into the cool foyer, hoping she wouldn't have to wait long.

"Minerva?" Gertrude's voice floated down from the first floor. She started down the stairs. "Krantzy said you had come to see me –"

"Yes, I am here on Professor Dumbledore's behalf. There is an emergency."

The witch's normally unreadable expression changed to one of worry as she hurried down the stairs. "Albus? What happened? Is he all right?"

"He is fine, but he wants you to meet him at St. Mungo's immediately." Not knowing an easier way to break the news, Minerva said, "Professor Pretnick was bitten by a werewolf last night."

While Gertrude's reaction was not as strong as Albus's had been, she went pale and stopped on the second step from the bottom. "A werewolf . . ." she whispered.

"Yes, I have the letter here." Minerva fished the letter from her pocket and handed it to Gertrude, who unfolded it and read it slowly before giving it back to Minerva.

"The staff will need to be notified . . ."

"The Headmaster has asked me to do that. Right now, he needs you at St. Mungo's. He's calling a full staff meeting for tomorrow morning at eight-thirty. I am to tell no one but you the reason for the meeting," Minerva said.

"Good – I can Apparate from here, but I'm afraid you'll have to walk out past the wards."

"I didn't know where your wards ended, so I Apparated to the edge of the gardens."

"The wards extend only about halfway across, so no need to walk all that way," Gertrude replied. "Gluffy! Gluffy!"

"May Gluffy serve?"

"Gluffy, please inform my parents I am leaving the house on Hogwarts business. I don't know whether I'll be able to return today or not, so they aren't to expect me."

"Yes, ma'am, Madam Gamp." The squat purplish-grey elf popped away.

"Come, Minerva, I'll see you out and Apparate from the front step."

The two witches walked outside.

"I will see you in the morning, then, if not before." Gertie nodded to Minerva and Disapparated.

Minerva made her way across the gardens, trying to feel where the wards ended, but unsuccessfully, so when she judged she'd gone a little more than halfway, she Apparated and arrived at the Hogwarts gates a bare moment later. Letting herself in, she walked quickly up to the castle, then made her way back to the Headmaster's office.

Minerva sat at the Headmaster's desk and composed the first letter.

"Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Headmaster"

Minerva composed the next letters based on this one, varying them depending on the individual to whom she was writing, making sure to tell Slughorn that the Headmaster wanted to see him at the castle that night, then made copies of them all for Albus's files. When she was finished, she opened the bottom drawer of Albus's desk and took out the Headmaster's seal and violet sealing wax, then began rolling and sealing the parchments. She had never used a Charmed seal before, so she tried it out on Poppy's letter first – if she made a mess of it, Poppy wouldn't mind. Minerva smiled at the result. She only had to wave the seal over the wax, and the wax spread, hardened, and a perfect representation of the Hogwarts Headmaster's crest embossed itself in the wax. Well, that was easy.

Minerva finished sealing all of the letters, even those she wasn't sending by owl. She would hand-deliver the ones to Wilhelmina, Johannes, and Hagrid, who were the only members of staff still in residence. She hoped none of them asked any awkward questions. Albus obviously wanted to tell everyone at once. Minerva thought that the Owlery wasn't being kept up very well over the summer – she would speak to Albus about that. He may not have noticed the other night, since it was dark. She wondered to whom he'd sent his letter – to Gertrude, probably.

The strongest young Eagle Owl winged away bearing Flitwick's letter, and Minerva tried to choose owls for the other letters depending on where she believed the staff member was on holiday. When she wasn't sure where someone was, she picked strong ones. If Slughorn was in Finland, or some such place, she didn't think that a Scops Owl would be up to such a trip.

Since the entrance to the Owlery tower was on the seventh floor, Minerva thought she would stop and see if Wilhelmina was in her quarters first. The portrait guarding the Gryffindor Head's door, however, informed her that Wilhelmina had left for lunch already. Minerva had been so busy, she hadn't realised how late it had become, so she walked down the seven flights of stairs to the staff room, where she found Johannes, Hagrid, and Wilhelmina eating lunch in an apparently awkward silence.

"Good afternoon!" Minerva said as she walked up to the table.

Johannes, whose back had been to the door, looked up at her with a relieved smile. "It is good to see you, Minerva," he said, saying her name as he always did, making it sound more like "Minerfa" than "Minerva." "You are back in the castle again, yes?"

"Yes, for the time being. I have letters here for each of you, from the Headmaster," she said, handing them each their letters. "Well, from me, actually, but on behalf of the Headmaster. There will be an emergency meeting of the entire staff tomorrow morning at eight-thirty."

"An emergency meeting? Of the entire staff?" asked Wilhelmina. "Whatever for?"

"I'm afraid I can't say. Professor Dumbledore simply asked that I request your presence." Minerva hesitated. She was only a fellow staff member, after all. "Attendance isn't optional, but that shouldn't be a problem for any of us, since we are already all here."

"Bu' wha' happened, M'nerva?" Hagrid asked, looking worried. "Professor Dumbledore, he's not leavin' us, is 'e?"

"No, no, of course not. It's nothing like that. He will tell you all everything tomorrow morning."

"But you know, Minerva? What this is, this emergency?" asked Johannes.

"Yes. I was with the Headmaster earlier, which is why he asked me to inform everyone of the meeting." Minerva was uncomfortable not being able to tell her colleagues about Pretnick's injury, but she would follow Albus's instructions to the letter.

"What of Gertrude?" asked the German wizard.

"She is with the Headmaster now, I assume. Now," Minerva said, ready to change the topic, "I am quite hungry. What's for lunch?"

Despite her words, Minerva found it difficult to eat. At least her presence – and the letters, which each of the others opened and read – had done something to alleviate the uncomfortable silence she'd walked in on. She couldn't help but notice that Hagrid looked something the worse for wear. His eyes were bloodshot, and it didn't seem he'd bothered to change his clothes recently. Hagrid, as unkempt as he might appear to some, with his bushy dark beard and somewhat worn clothing, always bathed and changed his clothes after working outdoors. It looked as though he'd slept in the clothes he'd worn the day before, then not changed before coming up to the castle for lunch.

"Hagrid, since we should be expecting staff to trickle back to the school throughout the day, and possibly even overnight, I think it would be good for you to remain on the grounds, make sure that no one has any difficulty entering. Professor Flitwick, the new Charms teacher, will be coming to the meeting, but I don't know when he will arrive," Minerva said, hoping that Flitwick wouldn't arrive until quite late, or even the next morning. The other staff could easily enter the grounds without Hagrid opening the gates for them, and she didn't want him deciding to visit the Hog's Head for "a quick pint," then staying out for hours and ending up in a state worse than his current one.

"Aye, Minerva," Hagrid said before taking a large swallow of cider.

"And it might be wise if we all abstained from anything alcoholic until after the meeting," Minerva added, with a pointed look at Hagrid's large mug of dry cider.

Hagrid sighed and reached for the pitcher of pumpkin juice. "Ah'll need a glass, then."

"Wilhelmina, could you pass Hagrid a glass, please," Johannes said.

Wilhelmina passed a glass to Hagrid, who took it without looking at her or acknowledging her in any way.

Minerva shook her head slightly at this peculiar exchange. She had no idea what was going on, but now she thought that the problem was something between Wilhelmina and Hagrid, despite the fact that when Minerva had visited her the other evening and asked about Hagrid, Wilhelmina hadn't had anything more specific to say than that she had noticed Hagrid seemed upset about something.

Perhaps Johannes knew what the problem was. He had been here for years and knew both Wilhelmina and Hagrid well, and he clearly had become used to relaying messages from Hagrid to Wilhelmina. She wondered if he did it in reverse, as well. How very awkward for him. And how very childish of Hagrid and Wilhelmina. Or, at least, of Hagrid. Wilhelmina had tried to talk to him several days ago, after all, and Hagrid had turned her away. She would have to get to the bottom of this. It couldn't continue, whatever it was; Albus had enough to deal with without having two feuding staff members on his hands, or even one depressed half-giant. But it would have to wait until tomorrow after the staff meeting. She would take care of it then. In the meantime, she would return to the Headmaster's office and see if there was anything else she could do there; at the very least, she could see if there had been any owl deliveries.

Minerva excused herself from the table and returned to Albus's office. She opened the west-facing window and checked the Charmed owl box. There were two letters in it, both addressed to Albus specifically at Hogwarts, rather than with his name alone. Minerva hoped that all of his correspondents were considerate enough to do that. With all of the letters that Albus received, any that were addressed to him without indicating a specific destination would arrive wherever he was at the time. On his particularly busy days, this could result in very exhausted owls, as well as a very harried Headmaster.

One of the letters was from the Wizengamot, judging by the seal, and Minerva put that in the centre of the desk. The other one, which was possibly either personal or Hogwarts business, was enclosed in an envelope, and Minerva put that one above the one from the Wizengamot. She then went back over to where she and Albus had been working that morning and finished reading the last of the applicants' letters. This was also going to receive a "thank-you-for-your-interest" letter. The wizard was a shopkeeper, owned an owl shop in Manchester, but also, as he had put it, sold creatures that would "appeal to the most discerning witch or wizard," including Kneazles, Crups, Bowtruckles, and Puffskeins. From what Minerva could tell, that was the extent of his experience with creatures. Hadn't these people read the advert? What part of XXXX-rated beasts did they not understand? They were supposed to be able to have experience with XXXXX-rated creatures and be able to handle XXXX-rated ones for demonstration purposes; they also had to be experienced enough to supervise a class of adolescents in handling creatures rated at XXX, at the very least. The only applicant who had come close was David Fairchild, and Minerva certainly hoped that the advertisements coming out in the next week would field a better array of candidates.

Minerva decided to send responses to the applicants now, or at least write them for Albus's later approval. She wrote three polite letters to the three completely ineligible candidates, gently explaining that their interest was appreciated, but that the position was unsuited to their particular qualifications. Minerva snorted to herself. Next time they had an opening for a gnome-thrower, they could call on Clarissa Quaffenbush. She then wrote a brief note to David Fairchild, telling him that they had received his application and they would contact him again later in the summer. That seemed nice and noncommital, she thought.

Now what should she do? Minerva felt reluctant to leave Albus's office, although it didn't appear there was much reason for her to stay. She wished she knew how Pretnick was. Perhaps they had only believed he'd been bitten. Deep gashes from an animal's claws might be mistaken for a bite wound. But that sounded unlikely. St. Mungo's was not prone to making those sorts of mistakes, and if Pretnick was brought in soon after the attack, the Healers had had plenty of time for a diagnosis. But perhaps it hadn't been a werewolf that bit him. There had been a full moon the night before, but that didn't mean it couldn't have been a true wolf that had attacked them. But how many wolves still lived in Britain? Minerva didn't know much about mundane animals, but she'd never heard of wolves anywhere in Britain but in Muggle animal museums – zoological gardens, she thought they were called. Perhaps Pretnick had been somewhere on the Continent and been transported to England after he was wounded . . . but even if that were so, Minerva had to admit it was unlikely that it was anything but a werewolf. Pretnick had to have been conscious to have asked that Albus be informed; as a Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, he would recognise a werewolf. And he would know very well the consequences of such a bite, both practically and socially.

Minerva swallowed past the lump in her throat. This would mean finding a new Defence teacher, too. Pretnick . . . she hoped he had family, brothers or sisters, perhaps, who could take him in. If not, she had no idea how he could support himself. And without someone to make sure that he was locked up for the duration of a the full moon, he would be a danger to everyone. Maybe Albus knew of someone who could help him, at least someone who could cage him during those three days a month when he would lose his humanity with the rise of the full moon. Minerva shuddered at the thought. And Robert seemed so mild-mannered . . . it would have been better if he had died, in some ways.

Minerva was disturbed from her reverie by the knocking of an owl at the window. She opened it and let in the little bird, took the letter that had been tied to its leg, and gave it a few treats from Albus's drawer. The letter was addressed to her. She unsealed it and quickly read the contents. Slughorn would be arriving at eight o'clock that evening. He hoped this was sufficiently early, but he'd had plans that he would prefer not to alter.

"Don't go just yet," Minerva said to the little owl.

She scratched out a quick note to Slughorn, telling him to come as soon as he was able to get away, but that she would tell the Headmaster to expect him no later than eight o'clock. She wished she could give him the same instructions she had given Hagrid about avoiding alcoholic drink – the Slytherin Head of House was fond of his liquor, from what Minerva had observed – but she didn't feel she had the authority to say that to a senior faculty member and Head of House. It was different at lunch; Johannes and Wilhelmina had likely understood that she was really speaking to Hagrid. It simply wouldn't do to have Hagrid hung-over in the morning. Minerva wished she could think of a subtle way to ask him to bathe and change his clothes.

Sighing, she attached the letter to the owl's leg.

"Take this to Horace Slughorn, quick as you can, like a good owl." Minerva stroked its little head gently then carried it to the window, where it flew off.

Minerva had just sat down in the armchair near the fireplace when there was a flapping and hooting at the window, which she had left open. Another letter, again for her. This one was from Poppy. Minerva groaned as she read it. Of course, Poppy thought that Minerva could give her some information about the reason for the unexpectedly-called staff meeting. Minerva quickly jotted her friend a note, telling her that the Headmaster would explain the reason for the meeting in the morning, and she looked forward to seeing her then. She sent the note off with the owl that had brought Poppy's letter.

Minerva decided that she had done all she could and it would be inappropriate to hang about in Albus's office for the rest of the afternoon. She left Slughorn's letter on Albus's desk with a copy of her reply, but took Poppy's letter and put it in her pocket. Just as she was heading for the door to the spiral stairs, however, the small fire in the fireplace glowed green.

"Minerva? Are you there yet?"

Minerva hurried over and knelt next to the fireplace. "Yes, Albus! I'm here!"

Albus's head floated in the green fire. "Oh, good, just thought I'd take a chance that you might still be there. Gertrude and I will be returning in time for dinner. Were you able to reach everyone?"

"I presume so, although I have only heard back from Professor Slughorn and Poppy. And, of course, I saw Johannes, Wilhelmina, and Hagrid myself. Professor Slughorn said he would be here at eight o'clock. I wrote back asking him to get here earlier, if possible, but no later than eight."

"Very good, my dear. It is a relief to know I could leave everything in your capable hands. Thank you for fetching Gertrude for me."

"Of course, Albus. Is there anything else I can do?"

"No, nothing at the moment . . . although, if it isn't an imposition, could you wait in my office in case there are other owls from staff? It's possible they might be addressed to me, rather than you."

"Yes, but –"

"Very good – just open anything that isn't clearly unrelated to the current situation. I trust your discretion. If you wouldn't mind responding to any other owls on this matter that might require it, and just set everything else aside?" he said questioningly.

"Of course. I will be happy to do that," Minerva responded. She could hear someone speaking on Albus's side of the Floo, and Albus turned his head briefly and nodded, then turned back to her.

"I must go now, my dear. We will be back at the castle sometime before dinner. Thank you so much for your help today!"

"You're welcome, Albus. I will see you and Gertrude later."

"Bye-bye, Minerva!" Albus's head disappeared from the fireplace and the green glow faded away.

Minerva stood, crossed over to the desk, and picked up the envelope that had arrived earlier by owl. Using her wand, she neatly unsealed the envelope and pulled out the letter. After looking at the greeting and the signature, Minerva realised it was a personal letter, not anything to do with Hogwarts business, so she put it back in the envelope and replaced it on the desk. Just as she did that, the late afternoon owls started coming in through the window she'd left open. It was rather chaotic, each owl apparently believing its delivery to be more important than any other. In the end, she managed to bring some order to the situation by saying very loudly that there would be no treats for any of them if they didn't settle down. She was quite surprised when it worked, but she took advantage of the calm to take the letters from the owls, a few of which were carrying more than one. After she had given them their treats, Minerva settled down to sort through the post.

"You did very well, dear," came a voice from above her.

Minerva looked up to see Dilys Derwent smiling at her.

"Thank you, ma'am. I don't know how the Headmaster deals with so many owls every day."

"Today must be a Saturday, because it's usually much worse on a weekday," the portrait replied. "But I was referring to more than just your skill with the owls. You have provided the Headmaster with most excellent assistance."

"I hope so, ma'am." Minerva wanted to get on with looking at the post, but didn't want to be rude to the headmistress's portrait.

"The Headmaster is fortunate to have you at his side," the portrait continued.

Minerva blushed at the unexpected turn of phrase. "I am just helping out while his Deputy Headmistress is on holiday, that's all."

"Yes, dear, of course." Dilys nodded and turned back to the work sitting in her lap.

Minerva couldn't restrain herself from asking, "What is that you're doing, ma'am?"

"This? Just a bit of tatting, dear. I thought I'd make a nice lace collar. It's that or another nap, and napping can become dull after a time."

Minerva raised an eyebrow at that. She had no idea how a portrait could create anything. Very peculiar things, these portraits. The ones in Hogwarts seemed even more imbued with personality than the ordinary wizarding portrait. But tatting? Minerva shook her head. At least that was better than claiming to be under a geas, as her own door warden had done.

Sorting through the letters, she found only three that were clearly unrelated to the current situation, and she put those aside with the earlier letter bearing the Wizengamot seal. She quickly opened and organised the rest of the post, placing his personal correspondence in one pile, letters from apparent strangers in a second one, Hogwarts business in a third, and Ministry-related correspondence in a fourth pile. When she was finished, she had two letters from staff members saying they were on their way to Hogwarts and would be there for the meeting in the morning. One of the letters was from Professor Dustern, and could be called "chilly," the other one was from James, explaining that he was in Norway, but was arranging for a Portkey to Hogsmeade for the next morning, so Albus should not be alarmed if he weren't there earlier than the meeting itself. Neither letter seemed to require a response. Just as Minerva was preparing to relax and perhaps call Wilspy for some tea and biscuits, there was another flurry of wings at the window, and a beautiful Tawny Owl landed on the sill and hooted.

Minerva stood and, bringing a treat with her, went over and retrieved the letter tied to the Tawny's leg. The bird flew off, and Minerva spied a few more owls flying toward the castle. Looking at the letter that had just arrived, Minerva saw that it was addressed to her. Opening it, she smiled. This one was from the new Charms teacher.

"Aix-en-Provence

"Filius X. Flitwick"

What a sweet and very enthusiastic letter – no wonder Albus had hoped to have him join the staff. He sounded much nicer than Professor Dustern, that was certain. She quickly pulled out a parchment and wrote him a reply, telling him that he was very welcome to stay at the castle, and she would see to it that he was met at the gates when he arrived that night, if she couldn't meet him herself; however, if he would prefer to stay at the Broomsticks, he should simply send her an owl to let her know. She made a copy for herself, then sealed the letter using Albus's violet wax, but charming the wax seal with three intertwined M's, rather than using the Headmaster's official seal.

Wishing that she had kept the Tawny to return to Flitwick with her letter, she saw that there were, indeed, two more owls flying directly toward her. She dutifully gave them their treats when they made their deliveries, letters for her from Professor Evandras and Professor Herder, who appeared to be together, since one owl delivered both letters, and from Madam Perlecta. Deciding to wait before reading and responding to those letters, Minerva hastened from the Headmaster's office, taking the long spiral staircase to the second-floor, walking the length of the corridor to the most reliable staircase, and then climbed up the five flights to the seventh floor, then up more stairs to the Owlery to post her letter to Flitwick.

The trip back to Albus's office went faster, but after Minerva had let herself in and checked the Charmed owl box, she collapsed into the most overstuffed chair in the room. She didn't know why Albus didn't just have Wilspy owl all of his letters for him; that walk was an awfully long one just to post a letter. She was glad dinner would be soon; her worry had reduced her appetite that noon, but now she was quite hungry and rather tired. Minerva also wanted to see Albus and Gertrude and find out how Pretnick was doing.

Sprawled in the overstuffed chair, Minerva opened the three letters that had arrived before she had gone to the Owlery. They were all similar, just brief notes informing her that her letters had been received and that they would be attending the meeting. Minerva now worried that she should have told everyone to owl her. Supposing the ones she hadn't heard from hadn't received their letters? How would she know? If they didn't arrive for the meeting in the morning, would Albus be disappointed in her? She sighed. If an owl couldn't make a delivery, it did eventually return with the undelivered letter, but that was unlikely to happen before eight-thirty the next morning.

Minerva was just setting the letters that had been addressed to her on Albus's desk when the office door opened, and Gertrude and Albus entered. Gertrude's strained expression softened slightly when she saw Minerva, and she nodded to her. Albus let out an audible sigh, but smiled as his eyes met Minerva's.

Before either had spoken, Minerva asked, "How is he? Is it – was he –"

"Ah, now, Minerva, let's all sit a moment or two, shall we?" Albus said quietly.

"Of course."

Minerva joined Albus and Gertrude, sitting in one of the floral armchairs, letting Albus take the large, overstuffed chair. He looked very tired. Minerva so wished she could take care of him, and an urge to embrace him came over her. Swallowing, she turned instead to Gertrude.

"Is Pretnick going to be all right?" Minerva asked the older witch.

"He will live," Gertrude said softly. "But he was, indeed, bitten. There is nothing that can be done about that." She shook her head, and her jaw tightened.

"We must do all we can to support him, Minerva, all of us," Albus said. "He is suffering dreadfully now, more so from knowing what has happened to him, what will afflict him for the rest of his life, than from the wounds he sustained."

Minerva nodded. Of course, she would do whatever she could, though she didn't know what that might be. She had never known anyone who had been bitten, and although she had met a few people after they were already afflicted by this terrible curse, she had never had any sustained contact with any of them.

"He was a credit to your House, Minerva," Gertrude said. "He saved others when he could have saved himself; everyone else was running away, leaving a pregnant witch, her teenage son, and her two young daughters to fend for themselves, but Robert ran toward them, distracting the werewolf and giving the woman and her children time to escape. Even after he was bitten, he tried not to do any permanent harm to the werewolf, but, in the end, he had to kill it. The fact that he had to kill the werewolf bothers him almost as much as his own fate, I believe." Gertrude pressed her lips together.

"He knows it was just a young woman . . . a Muggle woman," Albus said, trying to explain. "She hadn't been a werewolf very long. We don't know her whole story, but it's likely that no one who knew her understood the danger she posed. The Ministry had no record of her before this morning, and Muggles are completely unequipped to deal with a werewolf. It is an unfortunate fact that most Muggle werewolves are dead within a few months of infection if they do not come to the attention of the Ministry before then."

Minerva shook her head. "I am very sorry. For them both. How horrible for him."

"You know what you'll be facing, Albus, if you make the proposal you suggested to me earlier," Gertrude said.

"I do. But I am prepared to deal with it."

"Perhaps you are, but is Hogwarts? I do not say that because I disagree with you in principle, but out of concern for the school. There are practical considerations –"

"I know there are, Gertie, my dear, and you will certainly make sure that I am aware of them all," Albus replied with a smile, reaching out and patting his Deputy's hand. "And I will be grateful for your counsel in the matter."

"What are you talking about? What proposal?" Minerva asked, trying to ignore the slight stabbing pain in her gut when Albus patted Gertie's hand so casually.

"Well . . . I had wanted to discuss it with you later, after dinner, but I will tell you now, briefly. I want Robert to remain on staff. He is opposed to it, himself, and Gertie, as you may have gathered, is not in complete agreement with me," Albus said.

"Stay on the staff?" Minerva asked, eyes wide. "Albus, this is a school. Full of children. A werewolf doesn't simply suffer from a case of cyclical hirsutism. He could be a danger here – and werewolves don't only bite, they also kill."

Albus listened to Minerva calmly, then said, "I know all of this. But I believe we could find a way to work with it, to keep him and everyone else safe."

Minerva looked over at Gertrude, who looked sombre. "But you don't think we can?" Minerva asked her.

"I do not know. It is not something I have considered before today," Gertrude responded seriously. "But I think it would not be easy, even if it were possible."

Albus sighed. A chime went off somewhere above them. "That's my reminder that I have to be at dinner in ten minutes. Why don't we go to dinner; we can speak of this later."